Burn it Down
by Laurendo
Summary: A dose of pure, messed-up clown love that makes no sense at all. Oneshot.


Harley threw her black and red jumpsuit over the armchair in the corner. Her blonde hair tumbled down her back in long waves as she pulled off her headpiece. The hyenas followed her to the tiny bathroom, cackling the whole way there. Mistah J had found a new hiding spot, this time choosing an abandoned motel. It was extra nice since Harley got a bathroom to use! She smiled to herself as she splashed her face with tap water, watching the white and black makeup cloud up into a little pool in the sink. Slipping on an oversized white dress shirt with some leg warmers, she applied some red lipstick.

"Never know when the boss is coming home!" Harley winked at the babies, proceeding to flounce downstairs barefoot. There were dirty dishes everywhere from the boys, but it didn't phase her in the least. They'd be moving soon anyway. They never stayed in the same place for long. No use washing them. The boss usually stressed about the things that only concerned him. The hyenas being fed, the placement of his socks, his clothes being ironed.

Harley blanched. The clothes! She forgot to iron his purple slacks!

* * *

><p>Harley heard the door burst open just as she finished the ironing. Steam rose into the air, blocking her vision and flushing her cheeks. She waved the cloud of steam away and turned off the iron. Getting up on her tiptoes, she carefully hung her sweetie's pants in the closet.<p>

"Har-LEY!"

"Mistah J?" She regarded him with a timid smile, half-fearing she did something wrong.

He grinned, looking dapper as usual in his purple suit. His flower broach, which occasionally squirted acid, was pinned neatly to his suit jacket. He ran both hands through his green, slicked back hair, messily styled with gel. The darkness she'd grown so accustomed to surrounded his eyes as he began to leer at her through the doorway.

Why was he looking at her like that? She did do something wrong, she knew it! Was she underdressed? She felt underdressed. Why did she decide to take off her harlequin costume? Squirming, she asked him, "Ya need anything Mistah J?"

With one of his signature mood swings, he cheerily bellowed, "Nothing, Harley girl!" The Joker paced the room, eyeing his things and spinning on his heel. "Are my dress pants ironed?"

Without a word, Harley produced the hanging pants in the closet with the finesse of a showgirl. The Joker's face split into a wide grin and he patted Harley on the head, mussing her mop of blonde locks. Harley gave a little sigh and let the top of her head lean into the palm of his gloved hand, resembling a puppy.

She got up and strolled to the crumbling balcony of the motel room. She let the corners of her mouth turn upwards in affection as Mistah J's hand closed over hers to pull open the sliding glass door, even though the middle was punched through and there were shards scattered on the dirty, carpeted floor.

_The boss must be in a good mood today._

The cool air hit her face the instant the door slid open. Harley let out a dainty sigh and rested her elbows on the rusty railing, gazing out at the city of Gotham.

"Aw, Puddin'!" Harley leaned back against him as he secured his arms around her tiny waist, bunching up her dress shirt. She'd savor this moment, especially since he was in the rarest of moods. She tilted her face up to catch a quick glimpse of him. "The city looks so pretty."

He spun her around so they were face to face. She stared into his eyes as he fought back hysterical laughter. His face went stone cold and serious, another one of his fast-paced mood swings. "You wanna burn it with me?"

Harley squealed and and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before running to the door and scrambling to pull on her harlequin suit. She caked on her makeup, watching her Puddin' saunter into the room through the reflection in the mirror.

He grabbed her by one of the puffs at the end of her headpiece and tugged. She gazed at him in adoration, her blue eyes glittering behind the black of her mask in the dim motel light.

"Mistah J?"

"Harley girl."

And they walked out arm in arm, a pair of homicidal maniacs who were completely and utterly in love.


End file.
